Delta Hotel called me at 2:00 this afternoon and asked me what I wanted for Valentines Day. This is ritual, as there is a 2:00 call before every holiday/birthday/anniversary. This used to frustrate me because telling somebody what to buy for you 18 hours before the event is as romantic as a sperm bank. I said the same passive thing I always say, "Ooh, I dunno. I don't need anything." (For any guy out there, the literal translation for THAT line is - "Dumbass I've been telling you I want a F*^&ING spa vacation for SEVEN GOD DAMN YEARS so help me sweet JESUS if you come up with another lame ass cheap box of chocolates and a gas station bouquet of carnations again I will fry your freaking ass with the battery cables off your own truck" - just so you know) It's too late for this holiday, but I'm going to make a list, stick it in my wallet, or better yet his, so from now on he can be sort of like a valet service, buying me all the things I want without me having to leave the house.
Now, don't get all crazy on me here and think I'm being selfish and ungrateful and materialistic. I don't need proof that Delta Hotel loves me. If (when) I get the flowers and chocolates from Exxon, I'll be almost (not quite) as happy as I would be getting a spa vacation. Because it's the thought. Even if the thought didn't enter the brain until actually laying eyes upon the gas station. Even if it's nothing but a kiss or a shoulder rub or lucky penny, I'd rather it be an extension of what Delta Hotel thinks about.
6 comments:
Well, I hope its Dove chocolate. The CVS at the mall was picked clean tonight but there were still men coming in.
Valentine's Day isn't even a real holiday. Me and Ron don't buy each anything on these days because we figure that we buy each and ourselves shit all year long... we don't want to join the herd in the mad rush to the mall... but then, maybe we are just too damn punk rock for own good.
Once again, more great essay material.
Can you say Suburban Diary, I can. Oh my god -- you'd have EVERY SINGLE woman laughing her way to their own Spa Vacation. You own it to us all to get this published.
A little advice from the King...
DH won't be offended by having you stick a wish list in his wallet. Hell, that's every guy's dream. Shopping with a purpose as opposed to mindless wandering through the aisles figuring out what will or won't get him into trouble for buying it in the first place.
In and out. Guys like that, ya know.
Another commercialized holiday...but that's okay, I love commercials! Here's to spa vacations!
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